Do you like things a little old fashioned? I know I sure do. Not everything, but some things I do. I love old bits thrown in with new bits around the home. There is something about the old that brings character to your space. I am in love with my Italian picnic stools, which I bought while driving through Milton on the south coast. I could have bought a lot more from that shop! They had 3, an uneven number, but there was something about having the odd number, it gives them more character. For now they are beside my bed, holding up my new books.
I recently bought a shirt that I could see on a sweet old lady, and even though it is new it feels as if I am wearing a shirt that has a history, a story to tell. I was thinking last week about how I look up to elderly people, how I would quite happily sit and have a cup of tea with them. Even as a stranger I would love to sit and just listen. I would be happy to say nothing, soak up their lives and hear their history. One can only hope as we get older that we too receive the same respect. I hope that I will have someone that wants to hear about my life, and for me to teach them or inspire them in some way.
This is something my mum taught me. I was brought up to respect her friends, and I was taught how to talk to them. They were a big part of her life. Her friends were her family, and now I feel I am slightly walking that same path as my mum did. She was a single mum, no parents, and her friends were her life, as were we. I picked up my pen over the weekend, opened the book I bought to write to my mum, and I wrote to her. This is something I have not done for over a year now. It was the right time to tell her about my life. I am in an awesome place, and what better way to share this with her through written words. Another old fashioned art that a lot of us have forgotten, or have never even learnt. To pick up a piece of paper and write to someone is a beautiful way of communication. I know for me I eat my words, and to have them written down I can move them around to come across with my voice.
Do you write letters, or do you have something old that you love to keep with you?
Or do you live for now, in the moment, with everything new, and a history that is about the present?
I personally take bits of the old, mix it with the new, and live for now. I have a history, one that was full of a lot of pain, but this history makes me who I am today. I keep that heart on my sleeve, where I believe mine belongs, and I walk in my shoes, (saltwater sandals), for today.